


To the Golden Beat

by AxisMage



Series: The Omegaverse Trip [5]
Category: DCU, DCU (Comics), Young Justice (Cartoon), Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Kon-El | Conner Kent, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Belly Dancing, Dancing, Implied Mpreg, M/M, Mild Smut, Omega Dick Grayson, Omega Verse, Porn With Plot, Team Dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 11:16:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15411705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AxisMage/pseuds/AxisMage
Summary: Dick and Conner hope to have a couple of days free, but they´re superheroes, Kaldur needs them, Dick likes wearing gold and Conner is possesiveOr, the night Dick ended up getting pregnant





	To the Golden Beat

**Author's Note:**

> So... I know this doesn´t really fits within the whole family vibe ths series has, and I know that nobody asked for a smut attempt, but my best friend showed me this pic of Conner with a bartender suit, Dick with a playboy bunny suit and... well, I somehow ended up thinking of dancing and since my favorite headcanon is that Dick loves to dance and he can dance really darn good... this came out. My apologies beforehand, I absolutely suck at porn, but I hope it´s still enjoyable :D

The thing is, it´s all going so well and according to plan that that in itself is a problem. In the years he´s been alive, and with everything that´s happened around him since he was let out of the pod, there is one thing Conner has learned and one thing alone when it comes to having a superhero life.

The word ‘plan’ does not exist.

Ever. At all. No matter what how hard anyone tries to make a plan, or plans – to be honest Conner doesn´t know why that ‘s’ matters so much, they´re the same thing right? _No, not according to Dick_ – because they are never carried out. Conner has his own little theory about why this is, and summed up, it´s because the world is never safe and the team is always needed. It´s something he´s known since day one, and most of the time it doesn´t really bother him because he understands. He and Dick rearrange ‘plans’ all the time. Dick has wanted to hit the clubs together since he was eighteen, and that is something they still haven’t been able to do, although why Dick wants to knock some buildings down is beyond him. Another plan they´ve shoved into the backburner for years now is Dick´s visit to Martha Kent´s farm. Conner hasn’t known her for very long, only four years or so, but Dick doesn’t know her at all. Every summer they make plans to visit her that don´t go anywhere past a couple conversations because stuff happens and it´s time for the both of them to get to work again.

And that´s… that´s fine, Conner thinks. That´s what they do, that´s what they´re there for. Most of the time it doesn’t matter that much, and he knows Dick thinks the same, that they both understand. The only exceptions they make is Dick´s heat, but even that is pushed back with pills and patches one or two months at the very least sometimes, and when they do leave, it´s not like they are disconnected completely from the world. And that is _not_ nearly as fine as the other stuff, but Conner lets it go because it´s the right thing to do and because he knows how important the team is to Dick. He knows, he cares, and he understands.

Today however, he can´t do any of those. He can´t. But most importantly, he _won´t_.

“We are so not doing this!” His fist slams against the coffee table loud and strong enough to make it creak, and that´s not even half of what he wanted to do with that punch. At least he now has everyone´s attention. If Dick, M´gann, Artemis and Kaldur could count as everyone, that is.

“We are not doing this,” he repeats, and despite him trying to sound sort of calm, it comes out like a snarl. He can feel the air shift around him, feel how his scent is suddenly stronger and thicker, how Kaldur´s and Artemis´s respond to it. It´s been years since he´s lost control of himself enough to provoke any reaction from other alphas.

“Conner.” Dick says, and despite the soft tone of his voice, it´s a clear and evident warning.

“No,” he replies, then glares at each of his friends. “No, Dick, we are not staying another week. We are not going to be part of this operation. You and I are going to sit this one out.”

Dick doesn´t even look surprised at his outburst. All he does is frown and purse his lips, and that alone would usually make him think things twice, but right now he has nothing to think about. His mind is made up, and he´ll be damned if Dick manages to change it.

“No,” Conner says again.

“But they need us.”

“No, they don´t. Dick. They´re discussing their plan with us and asking if we want to be part of it since they already know we had to leave soon. You know I would never ask you to step down if I didn’t think this was the worst time for you to play bait.”

“He´s not going to play bait,” Artemis says, rolling her eyes.

Conner glares at her. “You´re sending him into this place as an undercover agent.”

“Dick has done this before, Conner. It´s not like he doesn’t know what to do, or like he hasn’t been following this case with us.”

His jaw works and he looks at Dick. “Are you really going to make me say it?”

“They know pretty much anything, Conner. I have nothing to hide from them.”

Good. Great, then. Perfect, actually. “Dick can´t go in as an undercover agent,” he says for what feels like the umpteenth time, “because Dick is off his pills and off his scent patches, and the three of you know what that means. You do not want an omega to get his heat in the middle of a mission, and I sure as heck don´t want anyone but me near him when his heat comes.”

“Possessive much?” Artemis snorts.

Conner growls. He is on his feet in a second, his smell filling the air and hitting the other alphas like a warm yet solid punch, one that makes Artemis´s smell fight back. Conner´s hands balls into fists, and he has taken a step toward her when he feels a soft palm land on his back, and then Dick´s smell is everywhere, soothing him, calming him… calling to him so very strongly.

“Conner,” Dick says, and it is enough to pull him back, to make him think again like a rational person. He backs down, flops down into his chair and glares at his mate.

“I am not taking that risk, not with you,” he says.

One of Dick´s eyebrows goes up, and he sits down next to him, rubs a soothing hand up and down his thigh. Conner realizes he´s doing it because his hands are shaking, and his smell still floods the room. It´s weird, it´s something he hasn’t done in over five years, and what Dick is doing is what Batman had taught them to do: he´s calming Conner down.

“So does this mean you´re doing it?” Artemis asks, and Conner turns to glare at her, but due to Dick´s soothing touch, he keeps his mouth shut this time.

“If it represents too big a problem or issue, or if it puts you in any risk, we cannot ask you to do this. M´gann or myself can step in and the two of you may go on about your business as usual,” Kaldur says, and M´gann nods, looking both worried and curious.

“But Dick´s our best option,” Artemis says.

“He is also our very dear friend and no mission is worth getting him into a dangerous situation.” Kaldur holds up a hand before anyone can interrupt. “I am aware you are more than capable of protecting and taking care of yourself, Dick, that if someone knows your body and its limits it is you. If you decided to help us, then so be it, no one will stop you, not even Conner.” At this, Conner frowns but doesn’t protest. “If not, I understand, and we will find another way.”

Dick sighs. He pulls his hand away from Conner´s thighs and leans back on the couch. His gaze skims over everyone´s worried faces – well, Artemis looks amused and impatient more than worried – and he rolls his eyes. “There really is no need for all this drama, Kaldur… _Conner_. I know my own body and most importantly I know what I can do. Tell me where I need to be and when, give me a comm and it´s on.”

Kaldur smiles. M´gann murmurs a thank you. Artemis snorts. Conner wants to scream because he knows this is not going to turn out all right.

But if Dick wants to be his stubborn, reckless and hot self, he´s not going to do it alone. If Dick´s going in, so is he.

His steely resolve crumbles for the second time in a day when Kaldur tells them what this is all about and what Dick is going to be doing the following night.

He swears if he hears Artemis snort again he´s going to punch the whole darn Cave down.

* * *

 

Up until this point, Conner has never really paid much attention to clothes. There isn´t much to think about, is there? Clothes are fabrics cut and sewn together in different ways and shapes to cover up the human body, to keep everyone from seeing each other´s naked bodies, right? Right. Therefore, for him, there are only two types of clothing: work clothes and clothes to hide his identity. Which basically means turning his t-shirt around so the logo doesn’t show. Hanging around Dick has never really made him change his mind. It´s not that Dick isn´t a fashionista, given the guy really likes getting new and risqué clothes every couple of months, it´s the fact that Conner doesn’t understand why Dick likes getting new clothes frequently, nor does he understand why people are scared of Dick´s fashion choices. Sure, the Crayola green shirt with Hawaiian neon flowers Dick got last week isn’t something he would have chosen for himself, but it gets the job done, and that´s what clothes are all about, right?

Maybe not.

Conner lets out a huff as he polishes the glass he´s had in his hands the last… half-hour, one hour? He isn’t really sure. He´s been too busy staring and smelling and… _noticing_ Dick to pay much attention to the time. Going undercover on a mission was bad enough. Dick being off his suppressants and with his heat about to hit any moment was worse. Conner having to go in and play bartender in order to keep Vandal Savage from using all the mafia bosses in that “club” to the Light´s benefit was… well, it wasn’t as bad as what Dick was doing.

Conner huffs again. His hand flexes, and he feels the glass crack under his palm. He grits his teeth and looks down, wants to throw the stupid thing across the room right now. He knows that would compromise the mission, so instead he puts it under the bar along with the other four he´s broken already. It´s a good thing almost no one is coming up to the bar to ask for a drink, and that the few who do ask for simple glasses of vodka or whisky.

On the other hand, maybe it´s a slow night because everyone is staring at Dick almost as much as Conner himself is.

And it´s no wonder why. The situation is so bizarre yet enthralling that he´s even reconsidering adding a third mental category to clothing.

If that could be called clothing, that is.

Dick moves across the stage on the other side of the room to the slow and steady beat of the song filling the air of the dimly lit place, and Conner can honestly say he´s never seen him like this. He knows Dick likes to dance, they dance at home every other day whenever one of Dick´s favorite songs comes on the radio, but this is different, very much so. The gold around his neck and chest glimmers every time he twists or turns, while the gold around his waist whispers and tinkles as he rolls or tilts his hips. The light blue fabric of what Conner guesses are pants flows as his feet move over the floor, the movements gentle yet firm, delicate, and at the same time powerful. And then there are his arms. Conner had thought the blue ink swirling over Dick´s shoulders down to his hands had looked good when Zatanna magically painted them on, but now, with the gold cuffs around Dick´s wrists chiming softly and the way the liquid movements of his arms makes the designs dance under the even softer light… Conner wants this to be over as soon as possible.

The song slowly dies, the lights go out almost completely, and there are whispers, conversations Conner would rather ignore. The air is thick and heavy with… he doesn’t want to think about that either, so he picks out the one smell he knows, and it is very easy to find. Dick´s scent has been flowing rather freely all night, enveloping not only Conner but other alphas in the room with that sweet lightness Conner wishes had stayed for his nose alone. On the good hand though, after all the performances and with that smell tingling everybody´s nose, Conner is pretty sure that if Dick asked everyone to stay calm and quiet while the cops came in and cuffed them, a lot of the people would do as he says. Himself included.

He swallows hard and closes his eyes. This is not the moment for primal and jealous thoughts. Dick is there to keep the people entertained while Kaldur, Artemis and M´gann work backstage on getting evidence and then storm in to capture everyone. Conner is there to keep an eye on Dick. Which he is. He´s been keeping both eyes on him, as it turns out…

Focus.

The comm in his ear crackles to life, and Conner freezes, braces for good news on the evidence. Worryingly, all he gets is shallow and quickened breathing.

“Dick?” he whispers.

There is the barest of laughs in his ear. “I… ah, may have made a miscalculation.”

His blood runs cold. “What do you mean?”

“Uh. I think you know exactly what I mean.”

Unfortunately, he does. “How long?”

“Since before the performance started… I think. It wasn’t bad, though. It was manageable, bearable. Easy to ignore. But… your scent spiked all of a sudden and… it got worse and… and…”

Conner shuts his eyes, opens them one second later and he doesn´t see anything but heat signals this time. He finds Dick´s signal crouched on the stage, his form huddled, covered in red and orange and a bit of yellow. None of those things are good.

“That´s it. I´m getting you out of here,” he says.

“No.” As Dick speaks, the music starts once more, and Conner blinks for his vision to return to normal in time to see the lights brightening, Dick straightening from where he´d been huddling. Conner´s hands ball into fists, his nostrils flare, and he lets out a low moan. He picks up on it now, very faintly and most likely undetectable for the human nose, but it is there nonetheless, the particular smell of an omega in heat.

“Dick,” he mutters, and gets ready to vault over the bar and rush to the stage.

“No.” Dick finishes straightening, gets into position, and their eyes meet enough for Conner to see the stubbornness. Dick turns, starts moving his arms, and his voice sounds in Conner´s ear. “Not yet.”

“Dick…”

“One more song, Conner, I have a hunch it´ll be over then.”

“If any of them notice…”

“They won´t.”

Conner wants to throw the whole bar against the wall. Or punch a hole in the wall, go get Dick and run out of there. “For heaven´s sake, Dick…

“Conner, it´s okay” and as Dick speaks he turns, their eyes meet for a split second, and then Dick´s eyes close. The music gets louder, and Dick seems to get absorbed in it as his arms rise and fall in elegant smooth lines, as his hips begin moving, rolling to the exact beat of the song. Conner doesn’t know if it´s in his mind or not, but as he hears the coins of his sash jingle, as those hips move from side to side like he´s see Dick do in bed, he feels another wave of that sweet smell hit him. A smell Conner now identifies as _his_ , and underneath there it is, the scent of an omega in heat calling him almost too strongly.

Dick drops down to the ground for a split second, rises, twirls and steps to one side. He stretches out his arms, and the coins jingle louder this time. His arms go up, the blue ink of the tattoos glints under the light, and then Dick is twirling again. He then stops, stretches out one leg and arches his back, arms going up. He stays still for a moment, and that´s when Conner sees the slight trembling of Dick´s body, the sweat beads decorating his chest, beads that weren’t there before. It´s all a clear indication of someone who is trying to hold back, to remain in control, and despite Conner being half-afraid of what Dick´s face will show, he raises his eyes.

Conner lets out a choked sound. He swallows hard and tries to remain calm. Even from where he is, Conner can see the hair stuck to his forehead, how dark and not joyful those blue eyes are. Dick´s cheeks are dusted a deep red, his lips are half parted, and along with his rapidly rising chest, Conner makes out his labored breathing.

Their eyes meet once more, Dick´s lips barely move, and the sound resonates in Conner´s ear: a very soft, very familiar moan. It sends shivers down his spine, brings a blush to his own face. The desire to jump over the bar and head to the stage has been shut down for a moment, and all Conner can and wants to do is see Dick dance some more.

The music stops a beat. Dick turns when it does, then another song comes back on, faster, and those hips begin moving from one side to the other. The coins ring louder this time. The movements are still beautiful, but now a bit erratic.

“You´re… killing me,” Dick says in his ear. “I can… smell you. I can… feel you…” he trails off, and Conner gets another slight moan before Dick has to turn and steps to one side, shoulders rolling, leg rising.

Conner lets out a low moan of his own. “I want to feel you,” he says, and Dick´s hips jerk on stage, his arms tremble, and his head is thrown back. Dick´s throat is now exposed, and before he´s aware of what he´s doing, Conner is over the bar, his hand tugging at the absolutely ridiculous and bothersome tie M´gann had insisted he wear.

“Stop,” comes the bare whisper, and Conner almost does.

“You don´t want me to stop,” he replies.

Onstage, Dick shivers from head to toe, his hands go slack for a moment before he´s back to gliding across one part of the stage, making those darned coins sing, bending his body to leave not only his throat but his chest exposed as well. He holds the position, shivers once more when Conner´s groan becomes audible, and some of Dick´s control just… breaks.

During the next second, there is movement all around them. There are nostrils flaring, slight shifts as the people gasp in surprise, some sounds Conner considers inappropriate because they´re not coming from him but are aimed at Dick. They know, at least half the room now knows there´s an omega in heat dancing up there.

One chair screeches, and Conner is _not going to let that happen_.

He´s on the stage in a blur, and if Dick is going to scold him he doesn’t have the time, because they both feel a psychic link fall into place, and they both know what that means.

 _About time_ , Conner thinks, and it´s almost a scream.

 _Sorry that took so long_ , M´gann says back.

 _My apologies as well. We found more than we had hoped for, and we had to gather everything close at hand_ , Kaldur says.

 _Why do you sound so agitated?_ Artemis asks _. The two of you okay in there?_

Conner doesn’t get the chance to answer. He feels fingers grab his vest, and he blinks down at Dick, gets to see his big blue eyes darker than he´s ever seen them, outlined by heavy eyeliner, and then their lips are touching. The psychic link is strong enough the other three get a taste of Dick´s warm and wet mouth before Conner shuts the link down.

“They´re looking at us,” Dick whispers when the kiss ends. Conner glances at the people out of the corner of his eyes, opens the link once more.

_Dick and I need to get out of here. Right now._

There is silence on the other ends. At least for the first couple of seconds.

Artemis´s voice comes out. _Did he…? Is he…?_

 _Yes,_ Dick himself says. _I did. I am. Are we done here? I want to… I really, really, really need to…_

Conner kisses him again before their friends get the visual of what Dick was probably about to say. He hears Artemis groan, and M´gann´s and Kaldur´s embarrassment and amusement are almost palpable.

We´re getting out of here, Conner says, and it´s a good think he already has that plan in mind, given not two seconds later there is a curse, a scream, and bullets begin ringing out.

As compromised as Dick may be, Conner admits he still is fast and efficient. The two of them hit the floor soon after the first few bullets, then they´re crawling over the floor, heading backstage, making their way to the car Dick had first arrived in. They both know they´re not going to flee the scene. They also know they´re not coming back to help the team, if the way Dick´s hands are already unbuttoning and pushing up Conner´s vest is any indication.

 “Are you okay?” Conner asks, gripping Dick´s hips and pressing their lips together. The scent, the taste, everything seems to envelop him at once, and he has to struggle to hear his mate´s answer.

“I´m… okay. I… just. In heat. Conner. Need you. Soon,” Dick stutters, and presses even closer, gets the vest out of the way and the shirt soon follows. Conner shivers, moans, then steadies himself, hands moving downwards to grip his ass. That get a moan out of Dick, and Conner lifts him up with ease, makes good use of his super speed.

Next thing they know, Dick´s back hits the leather seats in the back of the car, and Conner is there, on top of him, lips on his neck, hands caressing his sides.

Dick moans, trembles. His arms wrap around Conner´s neck, and he inhales sharply, one time after another. The strong smell of alpha surrounds him, overwhelm his senses, and he knows he´s already slicker and harder down there than when he was on stage.

“You´re burning up,” Conner comments, and Dick almost growls his answers, struggles to undue Conner´s pants with one hand while the other trails over his chest, up to his neck and press against Conner´s lips. Conner smiles against those fingers and parts his lips. The fingers slip inside, and Conner´s smile widens before he begins running his tongue over them, sucking rather gently, biting just as soft.

Dick´s breath runs out, and he props himself up on one elbow. He moans Conner´s name and finishes pushing the pants down, lets out a laugh and pushes his fingers deeper into his mate´s mouth.

“I told you I could feel you watching. I didn’t know you liked watching me that much,” he says.

Conner holds back a snort. He bites down on Dick´s fingers, which earns him another moan, and he places his hands on Dick´s chest, moves down until he reaches the thin sash. He doesn’t untie it, just reaches underneath for the waistband of the sheer poofy pants.

“I thought you liked being watched?” is what he replies, and pulls away to sit on the leather. He pulls down the pants, takes the very… interesting underwear with them, and then… then he freezes.

Dick squirms right away, closes his eyes and shakes his head. The coins whisper against the leather, his legs part, and Conner doesn’t know if he should stare for the rest of his life or if he should just lean in and lick all the slickness between those legs and on the tip of that pretty cock right now.

“You keep watching,” Dick whispers, amused.

Conner swallows hard. He weighs his options. They´re together in this tight, warm space, the exquisite scent of an omega in heat enveloping and coaxing him to just meld their bodies together in every way possible, with said omega spread out in front of him dressed in nothing but gold jewelry and blue swirling ink, body fever hot, trembling ever so slightly…

“I can´t stop,” Conner admits, cups his face in his hands and gives him a gentle kiss. That kiss, however, doesn’t stay soft for very long, and as one of Conner´s hands moves down Dick´s abdomen to wrap around his cock, strokes it a couple of times before his fingers glide even lower, sliding across the clear fluid, finding Dick´s entrance and making his back arch from that very simple touch.

“And I can´t stop waiting,” Dick replies, closes his eyes and frowns. “No. That´s wrong. I mean… no more waiting. Don´t tease me.”

Under any other circumstance, that would have made Conner ask questions, given Dick usually likes to be teased. This time, however, Conner understands. During heat, Dick prefers to… have really rough and quick and intense sex – he´s heard Dick say fuck in and out of bed a lot of times but Conner still isn´t too fond of the term – instead of slow and romantic sex.

Which is why Conner doesn’t hesitate this time. He merely smiles, pushes one finger inside, then a second one, and he swallows the moan Dick lets out. He wraps his other arm around Dick´s waist and lifts, turns. They end up with him sitting and Dick on his lap, straddling him, but not quite sitting given Conner´s fingers pushing in and out of him now.

Dick throws his head back, body shaking, the coins around his waist and the jewelry around his chest chiming gently. Conner brings his hand down and takes his own penis into his hand, letting out a gasp because watching Dick like this, being so close, thinking about him has got him hard, hard enough that if he doesn’t do anything about it soon it´s going to become painful.

“ _Conner_ ,” Dick mutters, and it´s almost a whine. “ _Stop thinking_.” Dick shifts on top of him, gasping as those two fingers slip out. He shoots Conner a frustrated glance before pushing Conner´s hand away, wrapping his fingers around his shaft and lowering his body, the blush already on his cheeks and neck spreading to his chest, to the top of his ears.

Dick´s lips tremble. The jewelry chimes as his body rocks forward, and he lets out a hoarse scream when Conner leans in close and licks a slow, gentle line down his neck, to his shoulder, as Conner´s hand wraps around Dick´s own cock.

“Is this where you ask me to dance for you?” Dick mumbles, trying hard to string those words together.

“I already saw you dance.”

A breathless laugh. “Do you want to see more?”

Conner has absolutely no desire nor reason to say no. “Yes,” he whispers.

Dick gives a shaky smile, then a jerky nod. His eyes close, his hands fall onto Conner´s shoulders and Dick… Dick dances.

It´s different than what he´s seen onstage, it´s different from every time he´s seen Dick dance before. It´s much more intimate, much sultrier, much more… enjoyable. Enthralling. Exquisite.

Dick´s body curves and rolls in practiced quick movements, his hips jerks, his nails dig into Conner´s shoulders, and his own groans and gasp seem to play a melody to his dancing.  The tattoos gleam under the streetlights that filter through the car windows, the gold jingles and sings. Sweat beads his skin, the red spread across his body along with the wet thick sounds that come from where their bodies are joined make Conner feel like every inch of his body is on fire, makes him thrust his hips upward, his teeth dig into every bit of skin exposed. Dick´s smell surrounds him completely, and the instinct to just mark him as his, keep all that beautiful scent to himself, to bury his smell, bury himself as deep into Dick´s body as possible is just uncontrollable.

Raw and powerful growls reach his ears, and it takes a while to realize it is him making those sounds, that it´s his hand on Dick´s waist leaving marks and making Dick shiver, that it´s him thrusting almost too fast for human speed and that it´s Dick the one whispering for more.

Orgasm hits him, sudden and strong. It knocks the air out of his lungs, it makes his teeth and fingers dig harder than intended into Dick´s skin, it makes him come inside that tight wet heat with a scream, heavily filling up the other man, and when he feels Dick tightening around him, feels him come messily between their bodies, another orgasm hits him all over again.

The coins stop moving, and Dick collapses against his chest, shifting, letting out a soft gasp. Conner pulls his head and his hand back, but before he can see if he hurt Dick for real, there are fingers under his chin and then lips are pressed against his own.

They kiss like they want to drink each other down, with lips and tongue and even the harsh graze of teeth.

“Dick…” Conner tries, but he gets interrupted by another kiss, fingers tangling in his hair.

“You came so much,” Dick says, his voice a mere whisper, but strong enough to carry amusement.

Conner feels a blush travel up his cheeks. “Look who´s talking.”

Dick laughs, a soft and hoarse sound, and he shivers, closes his eyes. “Not enough, I´m burning up. Conner, I need you to…”

“I need to as well,” Conner says, and hugs him before shifting their position. Dick moans, his hands convulse.

“So much,” he repeats, keeps his eyes closed. “So much, Conner. We might make a child this time.”

 “That´s impossible, Dick, we´ve been through this before.”

“Almost impossible. Would be fun, wouldn’t it?”

Conner laughs. “Yeah,” he breathes, hands running up and down Dick´s thighs, squeezing. “I guess it would.”

**Author's Note:**

> As per usual, my deepest apologies for any grammar or spelling mistake, I´ll try to fix any there is as soon as possible
> 
> [This](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/d2/b0/8c/d2b08cb9e680b0df253497643c062157.jpg) is Dick´s outfit  
> And [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZCfxHe5Tfx0) is what inspired Dick´s choreography
> 
> Thanks so much for making it to the end, I hope you liked it!


End file.
